


Dirty

by ScribblesInTheMargins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday, Body Shots, Drinking, Endgame Otayuri, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Swearing, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Sex, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, milabek, otabekaltinweek2018, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblesInTheMargins/pseuds/ScribblesInTheMargins
Summary: Happy Birthday, Otabek!Honestly, Otabek needs to learn not to trust the Russians -- maybe he'll do that next year.  Let's just let the man enjoy the lead up to his birthday and his birthday this year ;)Between the Olympics, Yuri's birthday, and Skate America -- 7 moments, interconnected, where honestly, someone needed to be watching Yuri.  How has no one figured out that boy needs a babysitter -- and that is how Otabek's birthday ended up being freaking awesome.





	1. Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> All tags will happen by the 31st and that rating will be more than earned. MUCH more than earned.
> 
> Vodka and Tequilla -- yeah that's how this story goes.

 

Theme 1: Good boy / Bad Boy (yes - both)

 

(Skate America 2018 -- October 30th)

 

This year, Skate America was once again near Halloween  The last official day of Skate America was the Gala skate -- the night right before Halloween.  It meant the normal kitschy routines from many skaters were themed for the holiday. The Monster Mash.  Thriller. Some theme song from X-files. There was no Kitschy routine from Otabek Altin. He had an image to uphold -- and that was the bad boy.  His black hair slicked back and wearing nearly all leather, he skated to a new group he had come across in a shitty little nightclub in Brazil. It was dirty, almost dirty enough to get in trouble with the skating federation, but Otabek knew how to walk that line.  He'd been on the watchlist ever since his role in the great 2015 GP Gala debut of Yuri Plisetsky slutting it up on the ice. That performance had not been repeated. It's hit count online was astronomical though.

 

Near the start of the second half of the exhibition, the women's gold medal winner was brought out, Mila Babicheva with an overcoat covering her to keep her warm and Yakov Feltsman right next to her.  For as deliciously 'bad' as the redhead looked, she had avoided the Halloween theme -- it had only been suggested, not a requirement. Instead, she skated out in a skimpy (yet skating typical) glittery dress that matched her hair perfectly and everyone knew without an announcement that Yuri Plisetsky had done her choreography.  Rachmaninov always screamed of Yuri. Honestly, Otabek wished he didn't know as much about Russian composers as he did. Evidently, 3 AM rants about classical music over skype had eventually sunk into Otabek though.

 

Mila was the embodiment of beauty and grace, her program powerful and gorgeous as she soaked in her well deserved cheers.  At 20 she was the same age as Otabek -- well for one more day. Tomorrow, he'd be 21. Women's skating was so much harder on an older skater though, and even at only 20, Mila was old for her sport.  She showed no signs of slowing down yet.

 

Several performances later (including a saccharine cover of the Addams Family theme by what sounded like a group of hamsters) it was the final routine, and that meant Yuri Plisetsky was being walked out to the ice by Victor Nikiforov.  Otabek never missed a chance to watch Yuri skate.

 

White and gold, the outfit Yuri wore as he skated onto the ice was as different from Otabek's black and leather as possible.  This was sequins and glitter, innocence and grace. The piece was three minutes of Yuri contorting his body and flying over the ice with jumps reminiscent of the angels in the ballet he had taken his music from.  In the slightest nod to Halloween and the request by the officials to try and theme exhibition skates, a pair of white wings had been added to the costume, one more thing sparking in glitter as the boy spun, the innocence of an angel in his eighteen-year-old dancer's body.

 

Oh, Otabek knew it was a lie.  That was his best friend down there after all.  The crowd though, the Russian Punk had been long forgotten and only the 'Prima of the Ice' remained in their minds.  The 'Prima' was no innocent. Otabek knew exactly how hard it was to lift Yuri once the man had passed out -- Jello did not even begin to describe the boy when unconscious.  Limbs moved in ways that humans were just not meant to. He knew a lot more about Yuri as well -- things he told no one else.

 

As soon as the Gala Exhibition was over, he was being walked out to the hotel to get changed for the banquet.  It seemed to take forever to get all the hair product out of his hair and then into the suit so his coach could him walk down to the gauntlet of press and sponsors at the banquet.

 

When he walked in, his eyes were immediately drawn to Yuri and Mila -- no one had said a word about anyone wearing anything Halloween related to the Gala banquet, but there they were. In a sea of perfectly normal suits and dresses, Yuri was wearing a white suit, but without a jacket, with a vest in place of the jacket -- and the very same white and gold glitter covered angel wings as he had worn for his program.  Yuri had actually added a tiara that was close enough to a halo to the costume as well.

 

Mila for her part had replaced the skimpy red dress with a long red dress with a slit up to her thigh with a devil's tail at her waist and two sparkling red devil's horns clipped into her hair.  Both Russians were laughing as they spoke to one of the European sponsors. Yakov and Victor were only feet away, so whatever was going on, it was clearly approved.

 

In an instant though, Yuri caught sight of Otabek and his face lit up, honestly making the angel costume a little more believable.  With just a few words to the sponsors, Yuri left the men in suits to Yakov and Lilia as he grabbed Mila's hand to drag Mila over to see Otabek.

 

In a heartbeat, Mila was leaning on Otabek's left shoulder and Yuri on the right like some strange rendition of the classical inner demon and angel whispering the right thing and the wrong thing.  Except in this case, they both were trying to talk him into going to the bar with them.

 

Beka knew the night was going to get more interesting as soon as he saw the tequila bottle.  None of them were technically legal to drink, but that hadn't seemed to stop anyone tonight.

 

"Fuck, Mila, you know this is dumb.  You always get a hangover when we drink Tequila."  Even As Yuri bitched, Beka was sitting at the bar, confused and more than slightly drunk as a lemon was dragged along his right arm and then his left wrist was shoved into the salt pile on the bar -- again.  This time it was Mila licking his wrist before downing a shot and then licking his other wrist.

 

Honestly, Beka intended to say something, but somehow the night had gotten completely out of control.  The sponsors were all gone, most of the coaches had given up, and almost all officials were long gone by now.  The lights were down and a lot of clothes were missing from the dance floor. He was sitting at the bar though as his left wrist was shoved into the salt again and more lemon was slathered on his right -- Yuri didn't like lime.  

 

Tonight, there were still enough people around that they had to behave though -- he knew this, even as he felt two tongues trail along his left arm, licking every drop of lemon from it.  The last thing Otabek knew from the night was Yuri's hand wandering from where it had been on his thigh most of the night, moving over the undeniable bulge in his pants -- and that was when Otabek's coach had grabbed the man saying that that had been enough fun for one night.

 

As Otabek left, he caught sight of Mila and Yuri -- and instead of looking disappointed, they both looked like they were planning something.  Otabek had learned to not trust those two when they looked like that.


	2. Lick

Day 2 Olympics/Adventure (Yes both prompts again)

 

(2018 Winter Olympics - Feb 20th)

 

The first time they had ever done Tequila shots together had been in South Korea.  One of Mila's friends, a Korean skater, had brought a bunch of them to a dive bar in some out of the way corner of Pyeongchang.  Yuri was still only seventeen, not that being eighteen would have helped.  The drinking age here was nineteen, but no one spoke Russian or read Cyrillic and Yuri's fake passport looked really convincing.

 

"Fucking Victor!"  Yuri threw back a shot as he laughed and licked the lime off Otabek's arm.  "Eww, that tastes like shit!" The young man leaned over the bar to grab a lemon and a knife, slicing it and biting it before rubbing that all over Otabek's arm.

 

"Why are you two doing this again?"  Otabek looked from one side to the other, honestly, being pinned between the two Russians was not the worst thing he could imagine -- and everyone else in that bar was watching them. most of them with more than a little jealousy.

 

His vision was partially blocked by red hair as his stoic act was tested, hot breath whispering into his ear, "Because we have medals, Beh-Kah, so we get to do what we want."  He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or something else that caused her to emphasize each syllable of his shortened name like that. Hell, he hadn't even realized they had switched to Russian at some point during the night.  He did know that thanks to Victor and Yuuri both competing in the Olympics, he had come in fourth.

 

Before Mila took her next shot, she ran a salt covered finger over Otabek's lips before dropping a shot of Tequila down his throat and then running the lemon Yuri had sliced over the man's lips.

 

Blond hair blocked his vision for a moment. "See, Beh-Kah, we're taking good care of you.  Have to be a good friend, right?" Yuri was practically purring and Beka was so past the point of being able to say anything about how friends did not lick salt off of their friends, but that didn't stop Yuri from doing it again as both Yuri and Mila licked his right arm at the same time and took shots right in front of him at the same time and then licked the lemon off his left arm and Beka would swear to everything he ever believed in that their lips met while licking his arm.

 

Otabek blinked as suddenly a pair of blue-green eyes were right in front of his, noses touching as Yuri looked straight into Otabek's eyes.  Even as Otabek tried to back away, those blue-greens were replaced by pure sapphire blue as Mila pushed Yuri back a little. He felt himself slipping back off the barstool, and if he hadn't had seven shots already tonight, maybe he could have done something, but with the added weight of both Russians, he had no hope.  All three of them fell off of the stool, Otabek hitting the dirty bar floor first with Mila and Yuri landing on him, both Russians finding the entire situation much funnier than Otabek did.

 

"So why am I the one being tortured if you only beat me by a tenth of a point?"  Beka's arms had wrapped around each of the drunk Russians, positive that even with as much as he had had to drink, that he had to be the one to bring them back to the Olympic Village.

 

"Because fucking Victor and his fucking not being retired."  Yuri seemed to think that answer made sense. It was bad timing as well for Yuri with the Olympics, he had shot up five centimeters in the months leading up to the event and it was just enough to reduce his ability a little in addition to not giving him enough time to get used to his new height -- and Otabek had not gotten used to Yuri being the same height as him at all.

 

"Ahh poor Beka."  Mila crawled more onto Otabek as she pushed Yuri to the side.  "Want me to kiss it better?"

 

"Hey, Baba!  Get your hands off my friend."  Yuri shoved at Mila and in an instant she was shoving back at him.  

 

As Mila's hands found Yuri's shoulders, she shoved and grabbed his hair.  Yuri's leg came around, hooking around her neck and as the two Russians fought on top of him, Otabek rolled his eyes -- he was too drunk for this.  He was too drunk to even appreciate how both of them were moving on top of him.

 

The writhing pile of limbs was pulled from him as both Mila and Yuri were picked up and pulled apart as the three of them were kicked out of the bar -- and they could only hope no one would post the pictures on line.

 

All three skaters ended up sitting on the curb outside the bar, a passed out Yuri on Mila's lap while Mila was passed out on top of her teammate.  All Otabek could do was use Yuri's finger to unlock the young man's phone and call his coach. Otabek would rather wake up Yakov than his own coach -- after all, it was Mila and Yuri that had caused all of this so he didn't feel too bad if they took more of the punishment.

 

Yes, they'd all be in trouble, but it was at least better than whatever could happen to their drunk asses in a shitty part of a town none of them knew or spoke the language.  This had been enough of an adventure for one night. He was pointedly ignoring how Yuri's hands had been wandering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kudos and comments :) This will be 7 chapters, one for each day of the birthday week. Things heat up more tomorrow ;)


	3. Work it

Day 3 Night out / Night in (both again)

 

(2018 March 1st - St Petersburg)

 

"Fucking weather."  Yuri bitched under his breath as he was escorted into the Sportsplex.

 

Mila frowned as she watched the boy be walked down to the rink to start practice.  Worlds was in three weeks and Yakov and Lilia had not let up on Yuri at all -- not after what had happened at the Olympics.  It wasn't the bronze that had gotten them mad -- no it had been how drunk the boy had been. 

 

Mila had gotten in trouble, but she wasn't grounded.  Then again, Yakov was only her coach. She didn't know what to call the relationship with him and Yuri.  Even without a proper name for it, it did not change anything about how Yuri lived with Lilia and Yakov in Lilia's beautiful historic house.  It did not change how grounded the boy was, even if this was now weeks later and it was his birthday.

 

She bit her lip, looking at Yuri and sighing.  It was his birthday, she had to do something. You only turned 18 once in your life.

 

> << Hey Bekaboy?
> 
>  
> 
> >> Yeah?

 

Mila didn't even seem surprised that he responded to her text.

 

> << It's the weekend.  You have cash. Someone is in need of another rescue.
> 
>  

She carefully zoomed in on where Yuri was standing on the ice being bitched out for something by Yakov before she sent the picture to Otabek.

 

> << He's still grounded
> 
>  
> 
> >> What?  Still?
> 
>  
> 
> << Do something?

 

Mila was positive this guaranteed her spot as best friend in the entire world for doing this.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was exhausted.  This had actually been on his short list of worst birthdays ever.  With his history of horrible birthdays, that this could even make that list was a sign of how bad.  It was Friday, at least he didn't have skating tomorrow -- just dance. Lilia didn't believe in days off.  stretching or ballet, every day.  He didn't feel any different now that he was eighteen, but he had retreated to his room after the evening news, knowing Yakov would soon be asleep and Lilia would be reading in bed.  It was the same thing every night.

 

Tonight though, his phone vibrated.

 

> >> Hey happy birthday
> 
>  
> 
> << Hey Beka!  Thanks!
> 
>  
> 
> >> Are you having fun?
> 
>  
> 
> << Still grounded
> 
>  
> 
> >> On your birthday?
> 
>  
> 
> << Yeah
> 
>  
> 
> >> So spending a night in?
> 
>  
> 
> << Like I have a choice
> 
>  
> 
> >>  If you had one, would you take it?

 

Yuri paused, sighing.  Not like it mattered. What could he do?  He didn't have a car, the busses didn't run out here this late, he didn't have access to any money for a cab.

 

> << If I had one, but I don't.
> 
>  
> 
> >> Skype me.

 

Yuri's brow furrowed as the video request came and he clicked accept.  He almost dropped his phone when he saw Otabek though. He was clearly outside, sitting on a motorcycle someplace in the dark -- and he instantly knew where that someplace was.  He ran over to the window of his bedroom, throwing it open and looking down. Like hell was he not going to figure out how to climb down from the second floor when he saw his best friend waiting for him down there on his birthday.  Finally reaching the ground, he ran over to where Otabek was holding out a second helmet.

 

"I'm so fucking dead in the morning."  Yuri threw the helmet on and jumped on the back of the motorcycle.  He'd ask how or why later, right now, he felt the rumble of the motorcycle between his legs as he pressed against Otabek's back with his arms wrapped tight around the man's waist.  Tonight he was just going to thank whatever force in this universe had allowed this to happen.

 

They stopped outside some little strip club as Otabek pulled off his helmet to look at Yuri, those warm brown eyes looking into blue-green eyes that were still wide with shock.  "You're eighteen now. Old enough to come here."

 

The uncertainty wasn't faked as Yuri slid off the motorcycle, glancing from Otabek to the posters of the girls dancing on poles.  Could someone really be this oblivious?

 

"Come on Yura."  In just minutes, Yuri ended up in one of the shittier strip clubs in the town -- the fancy ones had higher age restrictions and this one only cared that they were eighteen.

 

A bottle of vodka and a couple shot glasses and pretty soon Yuri wasn't as bothered by any of this, he was leaning on Otabek and smelling how good the man smelled and watching how the man's eyes dilated as one of the 'dancers' came over to hop up onto the table.  Otabek had been loose so far with the cash and it was Yuri's birthday after all -- that, of course, led to a table dance. 

 

If Yuri's hands wandered a little along Otabek as the girl turned to face away, dropping so her ass cheeks were writhing just in front of their eyes, could Otabek really blame him?  "Did you know I can do that, Beh-Kah?"

 

Yuri could see Otabek swallow at those words.  "You …"

 

"Uh huh, Mila taught me.  She taught me all kinds of ways to be Naugh-Ty."  Yuri actually giggled as he accented the last word in English.

 

Otabek glanced towards the bottle -- most of it was gone, he didn't think he had drank that much.  As he turned back to Yuri, he saw the girl hop from the table and start to gyrate in front of him --  and then Yuri broke every rule of the proper awkwardness of a strip club. 

 

As Otabek didn't even move, Yuri stood up, mimicking the moves that the girl was performing mere inches from to where Otabek was sitting.  As the girl laughed and carefully perched on the edge of the table, her rear near vibrating in front of Beka's face as Yuri did the same to his side.

 

"Yura…."  He kept looking from one to the other, realizing this night had suddenly changed to something very different than what he had thought it was going to be.  

 

The girl purred as she leaned down, draping herself over Yuri as she looked at Otabek, "Ohhh Yura is it?  Wasn't your idea to come look at girls was it?" Her breasts were perfectly pushed up by one of Yuri's shoulders as she pressed him down into Otabek's lap, and suddenly Otabek had a hand on each of Yuri's thighs in the dark club with the strobing light as the girl got back up to continue the table dance, but now Yuri was in his 'best friend's' lap.

 

Their corner of the club was secluded, but Otabek's heart was racing at this.  This was dangerous. This was -- Yuri. It took him much too long to realize that he should have had an issue with it being Yuri grinding on his lap.  He was too distracted by how amazing it felt, Yuri writhing on his lap and Otabek felt how his body was responding - no had been responding for a while now.  He knew he shouldn't have his hands on his best friend's hips and he absolutely should not be getting so hard from how his best friend was writhing in time to the music.

 

"Yura?"  His eyes were wide as he watched Yuri slide off his lap and to the dirty floor in front of his chair, not breaking eye contact at all.

 

"Uh huh, Beh-Kah?" His tongue slowly ran along his top lip, not breaking eye contact at all.

 

"You're drunk?"

 

"Nuh uh."  He reached forward, palming the bulge in those tight, black pants.

 

Swallowing, Otabek glanced around and no one was paying any attention to their area.  The only one who knew what was going on was the stripper on the table who seemed amused by everything as she kept dancing on the table, her eyes drifted down on Yuri as she smiled.

 

Carefully, reaching into one of Otabek's front pockets, Yuri pulled out some money, grabbing two of the bills to toss them behind him to land on the table before he pocketed the rest of it, Otabek's eyes never leaving his for even a second as those blue-green eyes focused on Otabek's.

 

As Yuri unzipped the man's pants, objecting didn't even occur to him, and then Yuri tilted his head, blond hair falling in front of the young man's face for a second before he flipped it back with a quick move of his neck.  In that instant, the slow spell was broken and Otabek gasped as Yuri pulled down his pants a few inches. In that moment, he realized exactly what was happening but was helpless to stop it -- he didn't want it to stop

 

Otabek's head went back as he gasped, feeling his best friend's lips suddenly wrap around his very hard cock.  There wasn't a single bit of him that still held onto any illusions about Yuri being innocent. No, how those lips tightened and that tongue ran along his length as Yuri moaned deeply -- no, Otabek recognized this was no fumbling blow job exploring boundaries.  This was dirty. Yuri knew exactly what he was doing.

 

"Beh-Kah…"  Yuri moaned his name around the girth of that cock filling his mouth somehow before moving and taking every last inch into his wet, hot mouth all the way to the very base.  He wasn't using any hands, no, those beautiful fingers were bracing on Otabek's thighs as Yuri bobbed his head, alternating suction and deep throating him so far that tears were running from those beautiful blue-green eyes.

 

He was helpless to stop Yuri, his dark eyes moving up to the dancer on the table and her knowing smirk as she writhed her body in time to the music, but her eyes were watching the blond on the floor.

 

Otabek couldn't stop anything, his hands wrapping in that long blond hair as he started to thrust back, gasping as Yuri just moaned louder, greedy in every gesture as he kept the rhythm, bobbing in time to the music, his eyes looking up at Beka though, even as he took every last inch without breaking rhythm.

 

It was inevitable, it was too good, too amazing and Otabek felt his muscles tightening.  He felt the heat build up with an insatiable need as he gripped that hair tighter, slamming as hard as he could into Yuri's mouth, his orgasm ripping through his body without ever giving the other man a warning.

 

Eyes rolling back as he felt Yuri swallow around his cock, he was left a shaking mess in the chair, trying to catch his breath, stunned as he watched Yuri stand up and look at him.  No, Yuri was not drunk. Yes, they'd been drinking, but there was nothing about how the man was moving now to indicate he'd had too much at all. Instead, Yuri leaned forward, hands on the back of the chair as he hovered within inches of Otabek's face, not saying anything as Yuri just let his tongue slide over his now sex bruised lips, as if searching for the last tastes of Otabek, even though every last drop had been swallowed already.  

 

Slowly his lips moved into a smirk as he whispered, "How did you know exactly what I wanted for my birthday, Beh-Kah?"

 

Otabek was left speechless as he watched Yuri turn to face the table, now his arms over his head as he danced in time to the music, matching the stripper's moves, but with that perfect ass right in front of Otabek, and now he couldn't tear his eyes from Yuri's body.  His cock still out, not yet having pulled his pants back up, he was mesmerized by how those hips were gyrating in perfect time to the heavy beat of the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI do not check out websites of strip clubs in St Petersburg with the sound on. There will be pop-ups and they will be chat boxes to answer your questions to try and get you to go to said club 
> 
> Also roar, I am a kudos and comment dragon and I horde those!


	4. Russian Sandwich

Day 4 Favorite Ship - Mila/Beka/Yuri bitches!!!

 

Otabek wasn't sure how he got Yuri out of the club, but he knew it involved leaving a lot more money on the table for the girl's silence about what had happened.

 

As they were driving back to Lilia's, Otabek's mind was racing, and Yuri's hands were wandering down from his waist and that was very distracting while driving.  Yuri was stopped before he could do much by his phone ringing, for some reason, he even answered it.

 

Otabek knew this night was going downhill fast.  It had been a poorly thought out idea and as he heard Yuri yell into the phone, "I'm eighteen! You can't ground me!"  Otabek knew there were only two people that could be on the other end of that phone call.

 

"I'm out buying strippers and vodka! What the fuck do you think I am doing!"  OK, Maybe Yuri was drunker than Otabek had thought he was, and he hoped to god that the young man was yelling at Yakov and not Lilia.

 

Then Otabek saw Yuri's phone fly in front of the motorcycle as it was thrown.  There was no way that phone was recoverable at all. He couldn't go to Lilia's after that, not with Yuri this drunk and acting like this.  His mind was racing as he tried to think of what to do. Then, as Yuri's hand reached to cup his dick through the jeans, using his grip there to pull himself tighter to Otabek's body, a decision was quickly made and Otaberk kicked the motorcycle into a 180 and speed be damned as he raced towards Mila's apartment.  This had been her idea. She needed to help him fix this.

 

Whatever Yuri was trying to whisper in his ear was drowned out by the wind whipping past them as he drove as fast as he could at 2 AM to Mila's.

 

Mila looked less than amused as she answered the door to the loud knocking.  She had clearly just thrown on clothes, a crop top and leggings, the top was inside out and backward, "What the fuck?  Keep it down, my neighbors will be pissed!"

 

Suddenly she had Yuri's arms around her neck as he leaned heavily onto her, "Beka won't fuck me!"

 

"Oh shit."  She dragged the blond in, trusting Otabek to close the door behind him.

 

Yuri pulled Mila down to him running his tongue along her chin as he looked back at Otabek.  "He lets me do things to him if he can watch a girl though." The words were just whispered as Yuri spun to face the stunned man, his back now against Mila as he started to move, whatever music in his head, clearly it was very similar to what had been at the club from how his body was gyrating against Mila's

 

"Hey, cool it sexy.  How much did you drink?"  Mila gave Yuri a soft tap on the ass.

 

"Not enough."

 

"Beka?"  Mila figured that maybe he'd be better able to answer this question.

 

"I didn't think that much?"  He let out a deep breath though, "He either told Yakov or Lilia to fuck off though.  They know he snuck out and he tossed his phone while we were driving here."

 

"Of course I did.  They can track it, idiots. Ever heard of GPS?"  Yuri rolled his eyes as he sauntered over to Mila's kitchen to grab a bottle of vodka.  "And you weren't this bitchy when I was on my knees."

 

Otabek opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  It was very hard to argue with that.

 

"Excuse me?"  Mila turned to look at Otabek.  "You were supposed to take him out and have some fun?"

 

"Oh, he had more than a little fun."  Yuri's tone was starting to sour though as he poured shots, clearly knowing where everything was in Mila's apartment.

 

"Yura …"  Beka took a deep breath, "I …"

 

"I'm in trouble already, might as well make it worth it?"  Yuri shrugged a little as he reached over to enter the code for Mila's phone, starting to play something over the Bluetooth speaker in the bedroom.  He made eye contact with Mila as he walked back to her, not letting Otabek see the look he exchanged with her, his eyes pleading with her as he walked up to her and wrapped his arms back around her neck, this time his lips finding hers, arching his back as her hands dropped down to Yuri's ass.

 

Mila sighed, she knew that this was what Yuri actually wanted -- she knew how much he wanted the other man.  For as competitive as they were on the ice, Yuri and Mila never competed off of it -- and they both wanted Otabek.  Sharing wasn't bad. She relaxed as she felt Yuri softly kiss her, yes, sharing was good.

 

"Tell me what you did with him, Beka?"  Mila smiled as she felt Yuri's lips move down her neck, grazing over her collarbone and then continuing down.

 

"Mila?"  Otabek stood there in shock as he watched Yuri kiss along Mila's chest, even as he watched her gesture for him to come closer.

 

"Tell me what you let Yura do to you?  Did you let him kiss you?" She smiled more when Otabek could only nod.  "Did you let him touch your cock?" When she saw his cheeks flush as he nodded, she laughed.  Finally, he was close enough she could pull him closer and as soon as she did, she pulled him in to kiss her.

 

Otabek's eyes flew open, pure confusion flashing over his face.  Honestly, he had no idea how he ended up in Mila's bedroom. He especially didn't know how he ended up in her bed, pinned to the mattress by Yuri as the young man kissed him.  The vodka shots had never even been touched, but maybe it was enough of an excuse for what he was doing because kissing seemed like a wonderful thing right now.

 

He felt the bed dip though as Mila crawled towards them, her hands reaching out to start pull off Beka's clothes.   "Mila?" Otabek's eyes went to the woman as he tried to think.

 

"Yura, stop for a minute."  

 

Yuri slid off of Otabek, tilting his head as he did as Mila said.

 

"Beka?  Do you really want us to stop?  

 

He sat up looking from Mila to Yuri as he shook his head, but had to ask, "Yura?  Are you drunk?"

 

"Tipsy.  Not drunk."  Those perfect blue-green eyes were looking at Otabek as the young man frowned a little, "Been trying to get brave enough since …"  Yuri felt himself trail off, not able to continue.

 

Instead, Mila moved forward, whispering into Otabek's ear.  "Barcelona. Since Barcelona."

 

Beka swallowed looking from Mila to Yuri, that had been -- years.  His eyes closed though as suddenly he had Yuri's lips on his, a crushing kiss pushing him back onto the mattress.  This time, he didn't pause, reaching to grab Yuri's hips even as he felt Mila move behind Yuri to start stripping the blond of his clothes.  The T-shirt was tossed to the side and the skin tight jeans unbuttoned -- then he felt Mila move and his own pants were being unfastened again.

 

He reached a hand down, finding Mila's messy red hair even as he pulled Yuri in tighter with the other arm, kissing him rougher.

 

Breaking off the kiss, Yuri stood up on the bed, one foot on either side of Otabek's chest as he started to writhe in time to the music.  Otabek barely even though as he lifted his hips so Mila could pull his jeans off, leaving him lying there in his boxers and a T-shirt as his eyes were focused on the blond above him.

 

He watched as Yuri slid his pants down, needing to move to one side of the bed to pull them all the way down and off -- kicking his jeans to the floor and Otabek's couldn't take his eyes off the much smaller pair of underwear that Yuri wore, the navy blue fabric clinging to asscheeks that were positively sinful and strained in the front from how hard Yuri was.

 

He felt Mila's hand over the bulge in his boxers and he arched up into her hand even as he watched Yuri dance over him.  His arms reached up as he ran his hands along Yuri's bare legs, watching the man move over him as he felt Mila pull his cock out, and for the second time that night, warm lips wrapped around him.  

 

As Mila took him into her mouth, he pulled Yuri down, getting the man to fall to his knees, awkwardly positioned, but close enough that Otabek was able to grab the man's hips and pull his hips up far enough to be able to mouth over the incredibly obvious bulge in those tight underwear.    

 

That fabric had to go.  That fabric had to go now.  He couldn't think of how he could possibly pull them off though, not with how he now had Yuri's legs wrapped around his neck.  No, that fabric just had to be ripped.

 

Yuri fell forward, his hands braced on Mila's headboard as he felt Otabek take his cock into his mouth.  Shifting his hips, Yuri couldn't help but to moan, he'd wanted this for so long, so so very long. Much better than fingers in that mouth, his cock sliding between those lips was the most perfect thing he could think of.

 

As Otabek sucked Yuri, Mila did the same to Otabek. Beka's hips rocking up into Mila's mouth as he took as much of Yuri as he possibly could at this angle.  Yuri was gasping, wanting so much right now. 

 

Yuri had wanted this for so long, he knew he wouldn't last long, thrusting roughly into Otabek's mouth as he felt his body tighten and he moaned louder, feeling as finally, it wasn't his own hand around his cock as he came, instead it was Otabek's lips - and fuck did Yuri want those.

 

As Yuri pulled away, somehow Otabek managed to grab the man's shoulder, pulling him into a deep messy kiss and knowing that Yuri would be able to taste himself in the kiss.  

 

"Mila?"  Otabek was trying not to lose control, trying to concentrate, but seeing that red head of hair bobbing over his cock was driving him insane.  Lust filled his eyes as he looked at her even as Yuri purred in his arms. "Condoms?"

 

She smiled as she grabbed a package from her nightstand, setting lube there as well and Beka decided that he should just be thankful for tonight.  

 

Grabbing Mila by the waist he pulled her into a kiss, knowing his lips still tasted like Yuri.  As he kissed the girl, his hands wandered along Yuri's back pulling him in close as he quickly realized he had no idea what to do in this situation, but he knew how Mila was moaning into that kiss.

 

Beka pulled back as he saw Yuri move in to kiss Mila instead, and as Beka slipped a condom on, he saw the two Russians wrap arms around each other, kissing as he moved Mila's hips, moving forward to thrust up into her even as his lips found Yuri's shoulder blades.  With every thust, he heard Mila's moans muffled by Yuri's lips 

 

Biting at Yuri's back, one hand on the man's pale hip and the other on one of Mila's he kept going, feeling smooth legs wrap around him even as he left a trail of rough kisses across Yuri's back, knowing the marks would stand out harshly on the pale canvas.

 

When he felt Mila tighten, he had no ability to hold back, slamming into her harder as he felt himself orgasm even as she arched her back and Yuri's lips moved down.  

 

Moments later, lying on his back, Mila exhausted next to him, Otabek felt Yuri pulling off the condom to toss it aside.  Then those perfect lips were back on him, his cock once again in Yuri's mouth as he felt himself begin to harden again. "Yura?"

 

Glancing down, he saw those beautiful blue-green eyes looking back up at him and there was no way he could even think of stopping him.  No, whatever Yuri wanted, he was going to get tonight.

 

Gripping the sheets, with Mila nuzzling his shoulder, he felt another condom slipped over his now hard dick, the cool latex replacing those perfect lips as more lube was added and Yuri's hand stroked the now covered length.

 

"Are you sure?"  He didn't even know why he asked Yuri that -- there was no uncertainty in anything that Yuri was doing.

 

"Positive, Beka."  Yuri leaned in, kissing his 'best friend's' swollen lips as he lowered himself onto the man, going so slowly as he let his body get used to the intrusion.  He couldn't keep his eyes open, the sensation of how tight and hot Yuri was overwhelming everything as all he could do was try and hold onto the two bodies in bed with him.

 

It took only minutes for Yuri to steal his ability to voice anything beyond needy whimpers as the blond rode him hard and fast taking every last inch into that perfect lithe body.  All too soon he felt himself lose control again, heat spilling from him as he thrust up, even muscle tense and shaking.

 

At the last moment, he was able to open his eyes, just enough to see the perfectly angelic look as Yuri orgasmed, the man's cock painting streaks across those perfectly pale abs before Yuri collapsed onto him and all Beka could do was hold them both, trapped between the two Russians and there was nowhere he'd rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was my excuse to write a Russian sandwich -- *bows*
> 
> Comments? Kudos? I'm out of my element here and would love feedback?


	5. Owwie!

Day 5 Tattoos / Memories (both again -- well Memories of the Olympics, I'm trying here :) )

(March 2, 2018)

 

The next morning, Otabek woke up, groggy but not hungover.  For a few minutes he was confused about where he was -- then even more confused when he saw red hair on one side and blond hair on the other -- then everything from the night before came back.  

 

Not moving, barely even risking to breathe he tried to remember everything from the night before.  He was very naked. He could feel both Mila and Yuri were naked - and he entirely knew why. As he tried to think of what to do -- his brain trying to figure out how much Yuri had drank the night before.  That had to explain it. Maybe Mila had been drunk too? He didn't know. He hadn't seen her even have a single shot of alcohol.

 

Then he remembered, this was not the first time they had done something like this.  He had thought the bar at the Olympics had just been a fluke, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe it hadn't been a fluke, because this was now the second time that he had ended up watching them kiss on his lap.  This time though -- oh god, he'd never forget that.

 

He felt Yuri start to move first, the young man sliding more to the center of the bed, using an elbow to prop himself up and look down into Otabek's eyes.  There was absolutely no sign of him being hungover at all -- maybe he hadn't drank as much as Otabek had feared.

 

Yuri didn't pause to think, leaning in to kiss those lips again, this time the intensity was gone, this was slow morning kisses ending with a soft suck on Beka's lower lip.  "Morning."

 

"Morning…"  he hadn't expected Yuri to sound that calm, or for his voice to have dropped like that into a husky whisper.  Otabek wasn't sure what to say -- not after what they'd done last night.  He blinked when Yuri's reaction to that was to lean forward and kiss him again.  This one another long and slow meeting of lips, just the slightest hint of a tongue running along his before Yuri pulled back.  

 

"I'm going to make breakfast." He smiled as he left the bed, walking from the bedroom completely naked as if this were normal.

 

A few minutes later, he felt Mila stirring, and he was pretty sure it was the smells of breakfast cooking that was doing it.  Eventually, those beautiful blue eyes were looking at him with a smile, "Good morning, Beka." She laughed as she leaned in to kiss him, laughing more as she added, "You taste like Yura."  

 

"I…"  This was not what he had expected when he had gotten on the plane to surprise Yuri, feeling horrible that his best friend was still grounded on his birthday.  He'd had sex last night -- with both of them!

 

"Get up, you don't want breakfast getting cold."  She slipped from the bed, throwing on clothes quickly, clearly not planning on showering before breakfast which Otabek was very certain was a horrible idea after what they had done the night before.

 

Yuri yelled out from the other room, "Grab my clothes and breakfast is done."

 

"Yes yes, you could have grabbed them yourself, you know."

 

"Shut up, hag."

 

Otabek had no idea what had happened.  Last night, they had been making out on him -- hell, they'd been making out with him in the bar after the Olympics too.  He sat there, trying to figure out what to do as he heard the sounds of breakfast being set on the table.

 

He stood up, trying to think.  

 

Finally, Otabek made his way out to the kitchen, seeing breakfast on the table, just a simple porridge and fried eggs, but as soon as he got there, Yuri was in his arms and kissing him.  Clearly, his best friend -- could he still call him his best friend after last night? -- wasn't made about anything.

 

"We decided.  We need to remember this.  We never got our Olympic tattoos last month, so we should all do it now!"

 

After proving that three people could fit in Mila's shower and that Yuri didn't understand the concept of not letting his hands wander, they were finally dressed and Mila was the first to get her tattoo.  Yuri holding one hand and Otabek the other, he found himself looking at the blond. This trip has ended up entirely different than what he had expected, but he wouldn't trade a second of it.

 

As Otabek was gestured to a table, he had to let go of Mila's hand, but gave it a quick squeeze before climbing on the table to bare his hip for the needle. Yuri was the last one to be started, and Otabek knew it would be hardest on the lightest of them.  This would be right over Yuri's hip bone with precious little muscle to cushion and absolutely no fat.

 

Once Mila was done, she moved to Yuri's side to hold his hand -- transferring the death grip on the padded armrest to her own hand.  Only a few minutes later, Otabek was done as well and able to move over to Yuri's other side. He softly started to murmur reassurances to him as the coloring of the rings continued.  

 

As the last ring was being colored in, the blue being added to the tattoo, Otabek's phone rang, which was odd for a Saturday.  Picking it up, he saw his coach's number.

 

"Hey?"

 

"Where are you?"

 

"It's the weekend, I took a little trip?"  


"To Russia?"

 

"Yes.  To Russia …"  There was only one thing this could be about.

 

"Can you explain to me why I got a phone call from Yakov Feltsman yelling about how my skater was a bad influence… what's that noise in the background?"

 

"Noise?"  For a moment Otabek tried to think of what to say about this as his coach just sighed over the phone, "I flew up for Yuri's birthday."

 

"I see -- and he's with you right now?"

 

"Yes.  We're at the same place."  He looked to Mila giving her a grim look.

 

Yuri dug his fingernails into Otabek's hand, sweat on his forehead from the tattooing, and the fact both of the others had brushed it off as no big deal had soured his mood.  "Fuck it Beka, just tell him where the fuck we are, this fucking hurts like shit! Why did I let you talk me into this!"

 

"It was your idea!"  Beka should have known better than to use logic or to let himself get exasperated.

 

"I'm not the one lying to my coach."

 

Otabek stopped, Yuri had a point.  "I flew up to see Yuri for his birthday.  Yuri's coach is … not happy, and so we ended up staying with Mila last night and now we're getting matching tattoos."  The idea had seemed so much more normal over breakfast when he had Yuri sitting in his lap and kissing his jaw.

 

"Matching tattoos?"

 

Sighing, Beka took a picture of Yuri's almost completed tattoo.  He sent the picture to his coach and then said, "I sent you a picture.  It's nothing crazy." All three of them had been at the Olympics a few weeks ago.  Many athletes got similar tattoos.

 

"Just bring him back to his coach when you're done?"  

 

Otabek sighed, "Yeah."  He knew it had to end, but looking into Yuri's eyes and seeing how close the young man was to letting tears fall broke his heart.  "It'll be OK. We'll see each other at Worlds. Okay?" He reached forward, brushing away a tear with his thumb as he looked at Mila.  "And you'll have Mila here." Maybe he should have asked a few more questions about what went on between Yuri and Mila, but for as complicated as it seemed, and for all the things the two had done together, Otabek couldn't lose the thought that Yuri and Mila touching each other had been only a show for him.

 

"Yeah.  I'll be fine."  

 

"Yura, you're eighteen.  They can't keep treating you like a child."  Mila moved forward, draping her arms over Yuri as she looked up at Otabek, "And you had a really good birthday, right?"

 

"Yeah."  That at least got a smile on Yuri's face as the tattoo was finally finished.  With a little help, a picture of all three of them was taken.

 

 

> [Mila, Otabek, and Yuri standing back to front in a line, all of them with their right hips exposed from pants being pulled a little way down to show off their hips and the fresh matching tattoos.]
> 
>  
> 
> With my two favorite people celebrating being eighteen.  #olympicrings #tattoo #bestbirthday

 

"There, now he can freak out before we get back and then he'll maybe have worn himself out by the time we get there?"  Yuri tried to give a smile.

 

"Don't worry Yura.  Worst case, you can come live with me until they calm down."  Mila gave him a smile as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot 2 more chapters done. 2 more days of Otabek gets everything -- I did every last tag I possibly could and gave him every last thing I could possibly think of that I could fit in this little fic.
> 
> Comments / Kudos / anything :)


	6. Talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the set up for the final chapter (which like every other one will be posted 24 hours from when this one was posted :) )
> 
> This is how we get to the endgame Otayuri

Day 6 God of Victory / Destiny -- Both again because Beka gets EVERYTHING for his birthday week lol

 

(Worlds Gala banquet - March 30 2018)

 

If Yuri had thought how strictly he had been grounded after the Olympics fiasco was bad, it was nothing compared to how he was being watched at Worlds.  Yakov or Lilia had a hand on the boy's shoulder at every moment and even Mila looked like she was behaving. Otabek knew they had both been in so much trouble.  The only saving grace was that somehow no one had gotten any pictures of anything except the one they had posted -- and that at least hadn't been a huge controversy.

 

Maybe it was the extra practice, maybe it was the need both Otabek and Yuri possessed to exceed, but this year the top two spots on the podium had been theirs.  The pictures were not one of Victory though. No, no one on that podium had been happy. Victor had a bronze, something unheard of for the man. Otabek had a frown from worry as he tried not to look up at a very silent Yuri and Yuri -- Yuri was just standing on the podium, his face an unreadable mask as he stared off into space.  

 

Even the women's podium had been toned down.  While silver and bronze had been happy, Mila's sapphire blue eyes only looked down at the ice for the photos.  The somber attitude of the Russian contingent enough to have even started rumors that Yakov was dying -- the man wasn't, but with that much of the team seeming as if it were the end of the world, rumors were started.

 

After the medal ceremony, Yuri had started to move to where Yakov waited at the boards of the arena, and Otabek had called his name -- he still couldn't get that heartbroken image of Yuri about to fall to pieces from his mind.  Before tears fell, Yuri had been rushed off by Yakov and Otabek was left without any answers. 

 

The only thing he knew was that Yuri and Mila were both banned from contacting him -- his coach had given him that information.

 

* * *

 

At the Gala banquet, the mood was somber as well.  Victor was sitting with Yuuri and the rest of the Japanese contingent and Mila and Yuri were between Lilia and Yakov.  The woman's look drawn and worried while Yakov's was near unreadable -- unless if you knew enough to know the man was worried, much more worried than a coach that had two of the gold medals at his table should be.

 

Otabek's attention was drawn to the Japanese table though as Minami, Yuuri, and Victor were huddled together talking with their keychains out and both Yuuri and Minami were pulling keys off and redoing something until Victor had two keys in his hand.

 

As Victor stood up, he looked across the room to make eye contact with Otabek and gave the man a small nod, and Otabek nodded back as if he had some idea what was about to happen when in reality, he didn't have a single clue.

 

As Otabek sat there, he saw Victor walk over to Yakov's table, frowning at his old coach.  Victor looked at Yuri then, knowing that the boy had been left with so little in his life. There was no longer any trace of the confusion the man had had from placing third, instead, he held out his hand to Yuri.  "Remember, you always have options." With that, he handed over a set of keys. "To my house, in Japan."  The fact it was a clear offer to coach was impossible to miss.

 

As Victor stood there, smiling, the slight flip of his head enough to move his bangs to momentarily expose both eyes, Otabek couldn't help but to remember the first time he had shared the ice with the man.  That meet up had ended with him on the bronze platform and Victor standing like some god of Victory on the top -- Victor had always been on the top.

 

Otabek wasn't there for the conversation that happened.  Victor, Yuri, Lilia and Yakov moving to a private room -- what he did know was that about thirty minutes after they left and Mila had moved to the Japanese table to talk to Yuuri and suddenly his phone vibrated.

 

> >> We need to talk.

 

Otabek's eyes widened, it had been much too long since he had gotten a text from Yuri, but he showed his coach, raising an eyebrow.  

 

"Just talk.  Don't do anything to get … anyone mad."  Otabek was an adult, there was only so much his coach could do.

 

Otabek nodded as the alert he had set up for if Yuri posted anything went off and he looked.  It was two pictures. The first was a smiling picture of Yuri and Victor, and sure, Otabek knew most of that smile was fake, but the relief in those blue-green eyes wasn't.

 

> [Yuri fake smiling but with very real relief in his eyes next to a confident looking Victor as they both held his gold medal]
> 
> New Coach.  Moving to Japan.  Training with the old man #moving #excited

 

As Otabek looked confused, a second alert happened as another picture came across.

 

> [Yuri with Lilia's arms around him and Yakov standing very close.  There was relief on everyone's face]
> 
> No longer my coaches, but still my family.   Leaving home but it's still home. #problemchild #stillloveyou

 

Otabek was more confused by that, but he left the Gala, moving towards the elevator as he followed Yuri's text message.

 

The bottom floor was the gym and pool -- and this time of night, no one else was there.  He saw Yuri though and walked quickly over, "What happened?"

 

The next thing he knew, he had Yuri in his arms, leaning into him and shaking.  "I -- I'm moving to Japan. I … I'm sorry, I need to … talk things over with Mila and … you and, I just can't do it right now."

 

Beka pulled him closer, tucking his head under his chin as he held him close.  "Is this about your birthday? We … "

 

"I can't talk about it yet, please?"  Those perfect blue-green eyes were looking up into his with such a confused expression.

 

Beka nodded, softly kissing the top of Yuri's head.  "Whatever you want, Yura. Whatever you want."

 

"Do you think it was fate or destiny that you were in the same camp as me?"  The question was hesitant but still hopeful.

 

"Destiny?"

 

"That we found each other -- or that I found you…"  Now a little doubt drifted into the question.

 

"No, that we found each other."  Otabek softly kissed the top of Yuri's head again.  He had no doubts.  Finding Yuri at that camp had been the only redeeming event in that entire summer.

 

Yuri took a step back, looking into Otabek's eyes before kissing him softly.  "I ..." He looked back into Otabek's eyes, "I need to figure out things though and talk to Mila … "

 

Otabek had never really figured out what was between Mila and Yuri, or what was between him and Mila -- hell, he didn't know what was between him and Yuri either.  All he could do though was nod as the blond kissed him again. "A little time, I just need a little time.  Wait for me?" He smiled and then walked away, leaving Otabek standing there, confused.  There was a pain in his chest though as he watched Yuri walk away.

 


	7. Birthday!!!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - Yes Mila and Yuri are both dressed as Christina Aguilera from her Dirrty video.  Mila in the first costume and Yuri in the second.

Day 7 BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

(2018 October 31st - Otabek's birthday party)

 

Everything about this birthday had been absolutely perfect, except for one thing.  Neither Mila nor Yuri had been answering his texts all day. The only thing he knew was that they would be at the party and they had 'a surprise' for him.  After the last time they had been together, Otabek wasn't sure what to think -- especially with how they had both been at Worlds. He had barely spoken to Mila or Yuri after that, both skaters throwing themselves into training.    Over the off seasons, Mila had been training in Russia and Yuri in Japan.

 

As Leo told him to sit in 'the birthday boy chair' which was evidently a normal chair that Leo had dragged over. Christophe cleared he throat.  He was one of the only coaches at the party (and he was not there as a coach, he was coaching a friend of Otabek's and well -- it was Chris. If you wanted a good party, you invited Christophe if you could).  "And now, presenting the choreography debut of Yuri Plisetsky off the ice."

 

Otabek's eyes widened -- this was really public and he really really was hoping he was wrong, or maybe he was hoping he was right.  He wasn't sure, but his heart was suddenly racing.

 

As the music started,  it was exactly the song that Otabek had been expecting -- the same exact one that Yuri had been on his knees for at the strip club.  This time though, the door opened and Mila and Yuri walked in and there was no doubt Yuri was not dressed as an angel tonight. No -- Otabek knew exactly what music video the two were dressed from.

 

As the overcoats fell from the two Russians to land in crumpled piles of tan fabric, catcalls could be heard.  Mila was wearing red and black chaps, a red white and black motorcycle jacket -- and Otabek was going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she had on a bikini bottom, although, honestly, they could have just been red underwear -- and some sort of heels mostly hidden by the chaps.

 

Yuri though, Yuri had black extensions in his blond hair and the exact same style of overdone makeup on as Mila.  He was wearing a tight crop top with a loose fishnet half shirt over it, entire stomach exposed. He had a skirt on, black and silver with 'Naughty' written over the ass and it was low enough his tattoo could be seen and also high enough that part of his ass was visible even just standing there.  His legs were bare except for kneepads and black high heeled boots.

 

Otabek knew he was not the only one who knew exactly what music video that was from -- the fact the song was throbbing out of the speakers only confirming what everyone already knew.

 

Backs to each other, Yuri and Mila started, both writhing in perfect time before stepping towards Otabek on the same music cue, three steps and then a stop where they both writhed their hips in perfect sync to each other.  Two quick hops away from each other in time to the music. At some point in the night, Otabek would learn the move the two next did in perfect sync was actually referred to as a 'slut drop'. The two going from standing to knees fully bent but backs still straight.

 

While Otabek's attention was focused on the two of them near vibrating as they braced their backs on each other, he tried to ignore someone (and yes it was Leo) yelling, "I didn't know we ordered strippers!"

 

The reason for the knee pads soon became very clear as both skaters dropped to their knees and arched back until their heads both hovered just over the floor, somehow hips and abs writing in time to the music.  Extended legs and they were somehow using each other to slowly writhe back to standing. The mesh top over the solid crop top Yuri had on was thrown to the side at the same time as Mila's jacket was tossed -- and yes, it was a bikini top under that.

 

Now with even fewer clothes, both walked towards Otabek, one to his right and one to his left, but Yuri stopped, putting one heel on Beka's chair and he was given an even better view of the red bikini bottom? Swimsuit? Whatever It was, it was a tiny piece of fabric that was probably indecent enough that even Christophe wouldn't wear it to the pool.

 

Yuri jumped up on the chair as Mila mimicked his movements behind the chair.  Then Yuri bent down, whispering in Otabek's ear. "Don't move at all, stay exactly where you are."  There was a serious tone so all Beka could do was nod.

 

Yuri jumped, turning 180 in the air and his heeled feet coming down exactly on the little bit of exposed chair and all Beka could do was swallow as now the dance moves were facing out -- which mean that that perfect ass that wasn't covered by much of anything was right in front of him.

 

Yuri dropped to actually be in Beka's lap as the song continued and so did the dancing.  The crowd was cheering, this so much more than the year of 'that' exhibition skate. There was no way this would be allowed -- well, anywhere in public basically.  

 

By the time the song ended Mila was right behind Yuri and Yuri was on his knees in front of Otabek.  He didn't know what he should do, his eyes locked onto Yuri's and he was positive he had forgotten to breathe at some point in the night.  

 

Mila laughed as she stood up, the song over and she was down to knee pads, boots, and a bikini.  She took a hold of Yuri's shoulders, pushing him towards Otabek, "My present to you." Then she laughed as she walked off to flirt with one of the new guys -- and grab that guy's shirt.  It was not warm enough to walk around all night in what she had on.

 

"Yura?"  Otabek had no idea what to say now that he had Yuri, a very very sweaty Yuri, leaning on his thighs and looking up at him.  

 

Smiling, Yuri reached into his boot to pull out something about the size of a gift card.  The small item wrapped, but what was on it was in Cyrillic so most people there couldn't read it.  Otabek could though. He damn well knew that said 'Yuri's room key' on it as he took it and pocketed the item.  The few others who could read it cheering. 

 

"Happy Birthday Beka."  This was the part Yuri had been worried about, would Beka want just him.  Mila was across the room pointedly not being involved in this now. She had been here for the choreography, but the really dirty parts had been all Yuri.

 

"Where did you learn to …."  Otabek swallowed, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

 

"Had to do something to get your attention."

 

That answer actually confused Beka, "To get my … Yura?  You've had my attention, every moment you've had my attention since I met you.

 

At Yuri's confused look, Otabek did the only thing he could think of and ignored everyone who was watching, just pulling the other man into his lap to kiss him in public.

 

He didn't care who was watching, pulling the blond tight to him and kissing him.  This was all he wanted for his birthday. This beautiful man with his arms wrapped around his neck and his body pressed tight.  This was all he wanted and he didn't care if he spent the rest of his party kissing Yuri -- no, he did care. Kissing that man was exactly what he cared about.  He didn't care about if anyone had anything bad to say about it.

 

Finally, Yuri still in his lap through the cake and some drinks and opening presents, he held up the last one, the little one from Yuri that he hadn't opened yet.  Then brandishing it so everyone could see, he opened that small package and pulled out a hotel key card -- ever everyone in that room was staying at the hotel, they knew exactly what it was.  

 

Another kiss to Yuri's lips, positive their dating status had become official at some point in the night, Beka smiled, "Oh, it's exactly what I wanted."  He leaned in, kissing and biting at Yuri's neck as he stood up, tossing the blond over his shoulder before Leo tossed him the trench coat Yuri had worn in.  The tan fabric just dropped over Yuri's body to cover up most of his skin as he carried his absolutely perfect boyfriend off to a hotel room. 

 

Most Perfect Birthday Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I decided this chapter would be too long with the second half of it so in 'Beka gets everything for his birthday' style -- he also gets an epilogue which I am posting as soon as this chapter is up


	8. Epilogue - AKA the hotel room

 

Evidently, training under Victor had some perks -- and one of those was a very nice hotel room.  They were on the top floor and even with a king sized bed, the room still felt spacious.

 

"Beka?"  His name just whispered as he set Yuri down on the carpet.  His feet were now bare, the high heeled boots had been lost at some point in the night.

 

"Uh huh?"  He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to those lips.

 

"Are you … okay with this?"

 

"Okay…"  He pulled back, for a moment confused.  He'd had the blond in his lap all night, touching and kissing and feeling how every movement the man made was driving him insane.

 

"That it's just me?"

 

Realizing this was serious, Otabek took a deep breath.  He had to focus, even with Yuri standing there in next to nothing.  "Of course I am."

 

"Just the strip club and then Mila's apartment and … you like girls."  He really hoped Otabek had realized by now that Yuri did not like girls, not like that at least. 

 

"I like both.  I especially like you though?"  He reached out to push a few strands of blond hair behind Yuri's ear.

 

"You like me?"

 

"Uh huh."  Smiling that the serious matter seemed resolved, Otabek leaned in to kiss him again.  "But you didn't get me what I wanted for my birthday."

 

Yuri pulled back, looking confused for a second, "What did you --"

 

His question was cut off with a kiss as Beka guided Yuri towards the bed.  "For you to be my boyfriend." He smiled as he felt Yuri smile even with the kiss, pushing the younger man onto the bed as he looked down at the few scraps of fabric that covered that graceful body.  "You're beautiful."

 

He hadn't expected the dance number -- not in a million years, but the more shocking part was that he had the man he had wanted for so long.

 

Yuri's eyes closed, a smile on his lips as he arched his back, feeling how gentle Otabek's hands were as the last few pieces of clothing were tossed aside.  "You really do look like an angel."

 

Then Otabek was on the bed, throwing his clothes aside as he kissed along Yuri's pale neck, his lips wandering over the slightly sweaty skin -- he knew exactly how had the boy had danced for him.

 

"There's a reason … my fans…"  He gasped as Beka's mouth moved to his shoulder, teeth rough against his skin now, "they're really bad -- like me."  Maybe half of the words were left off, but Otabek knew what he was saying. 

 

"You look like the good boy and I look like the bad one."  He nipped at those perfect lips as Yuri's eyes flew open again.  "But I'm the one to keep you out of trouble." Of course, Beka knew he did a bad job of that.

 

Whatever Yuri was about to say was lost as he gasped, hands reaching out to grip the bed as he felt hot lips wrap around his already hard shaft, the sudden heat that enveloped his body as Beka took him into his mouth.  

 

Yuri couldn't think, all he could do was arch his back, gasping on the bed as he felt Otabek's mouth, and tongue, and those perfect lips -- and this was better than any fantasy he had had while trying to muffle his moans in Victor's guest room.

 

Beka's fingers dug into Yuri's hip bones, holding the man as he lavished his attention on the hard cock in his mouth.  He couldn't help moaning, feeling how Yuri shuddered at every vibration. 

 

"Beka!"  Yuri gasped out his name, his body writhing in the other man's arms as he whined, wanting more but desperate to not give up anything he had right now.

 

Feeling that hard flesh slide from his mouth with a sinful pop, Otabek sat up.  "You want me, Yura?"

 

"Please?"  He'd deny that he begged, but he was begging, desperation and lust clouding his blue-green eyes.  "Please, Beka, I need you."

 

It was impossible to turn that down, especially when lube and condoms were right there and Beka knew what Yuri wanted.  As he spread lube on his fingers, he captured Yuri's mouth in a rough kiss, feeling how desperate the younger man was becoming -- and then how he forgot to breathe as the first of Otabek's fingers slid into him.

 

Slowly, Beka fingered him, feeling how tight those muscles were around even just one finger -- and he so desperately wanted to feel how tight that body was around him.

 

"Please, Beka?"  Yuri's voice was little more than a whine as he wriggled under the attention.

 

"It's my birthday, Yura -- don't I get to unwrap my present how I want to?"  Oh, part of him wanted to rush this, to just throw Yuri down and fuck him senseless, but this was more than that.  A second lube covered finger slid in as Yuri gave up the ability to speak, accepting he could only moan now.

 

Seeing the person he had desired for so many years spread out on the bed, gasping and only wanting more was more than Otabek had thought he'd ever have -- he had it now though.

 

"Can I?"  Beka wasn't even sure what he was asking permission for but Yuri nodded.

 

It took only seconds for a condom to be placed and more lube added before Otabek was pressing against Yuri's ass, trying desperately to go slow even as he wanted to just claim him and never let him go.

 

As he slid in, feeling the delicious resistance of Yuri's body even as the blond arched his back to give him a better angle, Beka's mind shut down.  Everything was just how Yuri was moaning and how that man's body felt.

 

Then he was in, the impossibly tight grip of the young man's muscles wrapping him tight, every nerve in his body on fire from the sensation.  When he started to move though, that was what Yuri gasped and his perfect blue-green eyes flew open again. "Yes, please -- Beka…"

 

No one would believe him that Yuri said please, and he wouldn't tell anyone -- this was just them.  He moved harder though, thrusting into his boyfriend as he tried to answer those desperate pleas physically.  Every thrust was met with begging for more. Every move of his hips and Yuri was gasping. 

 

Otabek wasn't going to last long, not with how Yuri was reacting to him.  Then, Yuri gasped, his back arching as he threw his head back and screamed without a sound.  Every muscle tensed and Otabek's world became nothing but the alabaster skin he was kissing. He felt Yuri orgasm with every fiber of his body and he had no chance of not following him over that cliff.

 

Thrusting hard just a few more times, he felt the heat pour from him.  He was left a shaking mess, holding onto his boyfriend's sweat soaked body as he tried to catch his breath, but it was hopeless.  The room was spinning and all he could do was collapse on top of Yuri, feeling how the other man was still shaking.

 

Otabek didn't think, his normal thought process was thrown out the window and any thoughts of going slow or being careful were tossed aside as he kissed the other man, whispering the words he had been too scared to say for years, "I love you."

 

He didn't expect tears to be the response, but as he was held tight, Yuri nodded. "Love you too."  This would never have been soo difficult if Yuri hadn't loved him. All the pain, frustration, fighting, moving, everything because of Yuri inability to deal with the emotion of love -- it was all worth it now, as they held each other.  

 

For once, Otabek had the only thing he ever wanted for his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if anyone is reading this, Otayuri is actually how I first entered the fandom, I just haven't written any until now. So umm, shameless asking for feedback if you want to give it?
> 
> Thanks :)


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